At 21, Wi Xi was admired for her quick wit and contagious smile. First in her class, and annually exceeding her parents’ academic expectations (as well as her own), she had unshakable confidence in everything she did. Her brother maintained that she was too self-assured, even smug. But this trait had supported her in getting to where she was on her life’s path. She had landed a prestigious scholarship to study international banking in the US at the University of Texas, Austin campus, where she was enrolled in Finance, Accounting, World History (a humanities course not required for her degree), and English for non-native speakers. Having two parents that learned English when they lived as graduate students in London, and who spoke the language at home, and who expected all their children to be fluent in it, she moved easily between the Queen’s English and Chinese, the language of her birth country. She excelled at languages, and had dabbled in French and Portuguese as well. An international banker must be versatile! With reference to the English class, she deemed herself “above it”, but resigned herself to the “easy A”. After all, she was the person her friends came to for translation of English words and interpretation of rules of grammar. She did not share with these people the fact that she was on the roster of such a beginner’s class, however. This was the US, after all, and this was not her native language, and there were rules, however absurd, that had to be followed.

College life was smooth-sailing, and Austin was an exciting city. It had a reputation of being a music town. Jazz, country-western, pop, and more; all were nearby. Depending on her mood, she could sip the jazz, swig the country-western, or slug the pop. She could satisfy her thirst with the genre that pleased her. Wi loved the diversity of the music, and could be found frequently in the clubs, with or without accompanying friends. Her slightly rounded porcelain face featured pronounced almond eyes and cinnabar lips, and invited much attention from young men. Her svelte figure drew potential dance partners even closer. Her smile and grasp of English often rewarded her with free drinks from bar patrons and pleasurable evenings.

One night found her without a friend in tow. She had been wowed by progressive country. It wasn’t easy to understand the songs, though she focused her attention on each syllable. The English spoken by people of Austin was a challenge! Was this English? They held their vowels, and supplemented syllables. Five dollars became fi-iv doll-erz. Nothing had prepared her for this!

She absorbed the rhythms until it was time for her to return home. It was Thursday, and tomorrow would be another day of early class. She scaled her neighborhood until she slowed to catch her breath. It was early in the evening, and laborers from nearby docks were turtling home to crimson brick dwellings saturated with their kids guzzling post-school periods. Open doors and windows spilled laughter and pot roast odors. As she passed a slight bungalow with avocado trim, the side door flung open and a corpulent woman clutching her robed midsection and fixated on the house across the drive bellowed over her shoulder “Gotta run; got loose bowels!”

Wi was baffled. “Loose vowels? I don’t know that phrase!”

Her smile did not return until next morning during English class. ​

Louisiana native, Gary Lester, is a good egg, who spent his career as a biologist in that state. He currently lives in Seattle, where he spends his time reading, writing, and riding his bike. His travels have taken him to 50 states and 26 countries, providing fodder for his stories.